More Illicit Activity
by WordRunner
Summary: One-shot sequel to Illicit Activity. Six years after Lucy, Christian is falling into old patterns


**Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the 50 Shades trilogy. That honor lies solely with E.L. James.**

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I grin as she lies back on the bed, the slinky black negligee she's wearing not leaving all that much to the imagination. She answered the hotel room door in that—well, a short silk robe was over it—and I nearly had a coronary. The way she smiled at me, looked up at me through her hair with her big eyes... the way she bit her lip... Groaning out loud, I lick my lips and slowly begin undressing, thinking about what brought me here in the first place.

It started with a text message. A location and a time. No context, no explanation. Knowing Ana would be working late tonight to sign some author she's been dealing with for months, I immediately called Gail to let her know I would be late as well. I had a moment's guilt hearing my children in the background and knowing I should go straight home to them—I've hardly seen them this week—but I pushed that aside with the thought I would make it up to them over the weekend and didn't hesitate any further in responding to the sender, informing her I would be there.

I walked briskly into the Fairmont hotel and didn't even need to stop at the front desk to check-in. On the drive over, I received another text message with that information. The Cascade Suite. My stomach did a few flips when I saw that. The last time I was in that room, I was with Anastasia on the night Leila broke into the penthouse and we were forced to flee while my security team did a sweep of the apartment and building. I remember that night clearly. How it was the first time I let anyone take control in the bedroom. How that had been the first time we truly made love. How it was the first time I admitted my true feelings towards her. I almost didn't want to go into the suite; I didn't want those memories tainted in any way. But before I realized, I was in front of the door and had knocked.

She had answered. Both our expressions were somber, though our gazes are looking each other over hungrily. It felt as though time had slowed down in that moment and fifteen minutes had passed, though in reality it was only seconds before she reached out for my tie and pulled me into the room. I kicked the door closed and a moment later I was pressed against it with fingers in my hair, running down my neck to the collar of my shirt where she deftly unknotted my tie, fisting the ends and pulled me down so our lips could meet. My own fingers moved to push aside her robe so I could feel how little she wore beneath.

It feels as though it's been weeks or months since I've felt this sort of passion for anything. Between work and three children at home, there isn't much time for Ana and me to indulge in each other anymore. Two years after Phoebe was born, we were bringing home our third child Emily. And while I wouldn't trade any of my children for the world, I think I would give anything to have more time with Anastasia.

So why am I here now? And in this room of all places...

Stripping down to my boxers, I kneel between her feet, looking up to find her hooded eyes watching me. She's practically trembling in expectation of my touch and I love that. I reach down to the floor for my tie and watch the slow grin crossing her lips as I crawl up her body. I straddle her belly and play with the tie, watching her thoughtfully for a moment. I never thought I would be here again. Looking down at her, neither did she. Her eyes travel from mine slowly, appreciatively taking in my chest, then my boxers where my erection is barely concealed—she licks her lips, making me twitch—then to my hands resting on my thighs, each one holding an end of the tie. Her brow furrows slightly as her eyes find my left hand.

To my surprise, she grabs my wedding ring and twists it around on my finger. I look into her eyes and am lost in her watery gaze. I grab her hand and it's impossible to ignore the glistening diamond and matching band on her left hand. Uncertain of what I to say, I ravish her with my lips, hoping to convey with my kiss what I can't put into words.

The tie is thrown aside for the moment. I need her now. After thoroughly exploring her mouth with my tongue, I whisper in her ear that we'll be taking our time tonight, that we've got hours to indulge in each other. She whimpers in response and I take that to mean she approves of my plan. I kiss, lick, nip, and suck every visible inch of her skin, inhaling her intoxicating gaze. When I reach her silk clad breasts, I graze my teeth along the nipple that pokes through the lace and she arches her back, nearly throwing me off her body. Chuckling softly, I move to her other breast, hoping for the same reaction. She doesn't disappoint. Her reactions are fueling my desire.

I'm growling when I reach the garters that connect her stockings and panties. With a flick of my fingers, they're gone and I'm shoving her legs apart a little more roughly than I'd intended. I look up at her; her eyes have darkened with need to the point they're nearly black and I've never seen anything more incredibly sexy. My eyes drift automatically to the apex of her thighs and groan loudly at the sight that her panties are doing nothing to stop the flood of wetness coming from her body. As desperate as I am to taste her, I remind myself that I had a plan coming in here. I was going to take my time with her.

I close my eyes for a few moments to rein in my control. When I open them again, I slide down to her feet with a purpose, pulling her stockings with me. I take my time removing them, then turn my attention to her feet. I lick each instep, then take each toe in my mouth, sucking them one by one until she's groaning and whimpering and mewling and clawing at the sheets of the bed. I slowly make my way up one calf until I reach a knee, then switch to the other. I follow this pattern until at long last I'm where we both so desperately want me to be.

Now I could take the time to gently remove these very lovely panties from her body, but I've never been a patient man and this is no exception. Pressing my thumbs into the material, I rip the thin material, pull them away, and toss them off the side of the bed. I fall forward, my hands coming to rest on either side of her hips, and bend my head until my nose presses against her clit. She cries out at the touch and I'm desperate to give her what she wants. My hands pull her legs apart and my tongue finds my way into her folds, tasting her where I move. She's soaking wet and I harden thinking that I made her that way. I suck on her clit and her hands fly down to fist my hair, holding me where I am, not that I have any desire to move. Two of my fingers slide inside her easily and I'm groaning now at how warm and wet and tight she is around me. I increase my pace with my fingers and tongue and lips until she's gasping for breath and tightening even further. I wait until she's right at the edge of the cliff of what she can handle, and pull away. Her eyes fly open and glare at me, which only makes me laugh.

A moment later, she's exacting her revenge, pushing me onto my back and practically ripping away my boxers before her mouth engulfs my cock. I cry out at her eagerness, my hand flying down to fist in her hair, urging her deeper and faster. I can't stop myself thrusting into her mouth and I feel her frustration when she pulls away from me suddenly, right when I'm about to find release.

This woman is going to kill me.

And if that smirk on her face is anything to go by, she damn well knows it.

Playtime is over now...

In a flash of a second, I reach for my discarded tie, flip her onto her back, grab her wrists, and wrap the tie around them. Her eyes widen at my quick movements, then darken in excitement.

"My wife doesn't let me do this very often," I tell her, tying the other end of the tie to the bedpost above her head. "She's afraid the kids might see."

Her eyebrows rise, but she doesn't comment.

I turn my attention to her now bare chest, though I have no recollection of when that might have happened. Not that I actually care enough to object or try to remember. I take a moment to truly appreciate the amazingly perfect specimen of woman beneath me. Silky cream skin. Perky breasts that beg for my attention. Taut stomach. Legs that go on for days, especially when she wears heels and has them wrapped around my neck as I bury my face between her legs. Red lips swollen from kissing me. Long hair that I long to wrap around my hands. And her eyes... I could get lost in those eyes without hope of ever finding my way back. Not that I'd want to...

We're both panting as I position myself at her entrance and as I enter her, I swear I see stars.

Buried deep within her, I take another moment to collect my thoughts so I don't waste this moment. This isn't the first time we've met here over the last several months and I'm not even certain anymore which of us initiated this to begin with. Normally I would have used my penthouse apartment at Escala for this sort of meeting, but I sold the place almost seven years ago after I so very nearly lost my family due to my selfishness and carelessness. I'd been hesitant to continue these meetings; between working ridiculously long hours and my home life which generally consists of chasing around three children, I don't have much spare time anymore.

Since we managed to rid our lives of Lucy, life hasn't been picture perfect and sometimes it's been downright maddening, but I've come to appreciate times like these. I worked so desperately over the months after Ana left me to win her back, convince her of my love and the newfound appreciation for her. Even after the Lucy's trial, after our remarriage and the birth of our daughter, there were times when I could see the both of us slipping back into the old habits that led to my five-month affair with another woman. To my everlasting relief, we were able to identify the problems before they went too far.

These meetings in the Cascade Suite of the Fairmont hotel serve several purposes. The first, of course, is the relative anonymity; I'm not concerned about running into anybody I might know and having to answer awkward questions. The second is my escape from the chaos that is life at home with my family. I love my children more than anything, but they do grate on the nerves on occasion. Third is my ability to just let everything go when I'm here. There is no stress or concern or frustration. And when those things do come up, the remedy satisfies everyone involved. Because really, there is nothing better than a good hard fuck to relieve stress and tension.

Pressed into her as deeply and closely as I am, I once again realize I take everything good in my life for granted. Perhaps not as much as I did in years past, but it's still there. I kiss her deeply, wrapping my arms around her waist to pull her even closer and feel myself smiling against her mouth as she pulls against the tie restraining her arms—I know she's desperate to hold me against her, but there will be time enough for that later. With a raggedly whispered plea, I begin moving. Slowly at first, reacquainting myself with her body, then faster until I'm so mindless with need that I can't even think about technique. Being with her is always so raw, so desperate, so fucking incredible that I think the world could explode around us and I wouldn't notice. I give into my base instincts and drive into her harder and faster until she's screaming my name, begging me, digging her fingernails into my shoulders so hard I wouldn't be surprised if she draws blood. I feel her tightening around me and I focus on that, pushing her even further until I've driven her over the edge. I don't stop. I don't slow down. If anything, I pound harder until I feel the familiar pull and feel myself exploding. Stars erupt behind my eyes and not for the first time I experience what can only be described as an out of body experience. There is no way a human being should be able to survive such intense pleasure.

I collapse against her as we catch our breath together. It takes me several minutes before I'm able to move enough to look up at her and the emotion I see in her eyes takes my breath away again. I have no choice but to kiss her slowly, deeply, trying to show her without words what I feel for her. When I pull away, she bites her lip against a smile and her eyes dart above her head where she's still restrained to the bed. I know what she wants.

I smirk. "I don't know," I tell her, rolling to her side as I reflexively pull her lip from her teeth. "I kind of like you this way."

Her amusement turns into a glare in a flash of a second. Chuckling I reach up to release her, massaging her wrists to get the blood flow back in them.

A short time later, she's wrapped in a robe again and I've slipped back into my boxers, and we're lying together on the floor, each of us holding a glass of Armagnac, neither of us speaking. In times like these, we don't need words; we both know exactly how the other feels about being here, escaping from our day-to-day lives for a few hours. No work. No children. No routine. No need for control.

Holding her is almost as satisfying as being buried inside her. This is a connection I've never had with a human being, despite my belief at the time that I had it with Lucy. I'd never been more wrong in my life. Just the thought of how close I had been to throwing away everything good in my life makes my chest tighten painfully. I look down at the woman curled up against my chest, wondering how I could betray my wife, my reason for being. I don't think I would survive losing Ana again, especially knowing if I did, I'd lose more than just my family; I'd lose my company, my livelihood, everything I hold dear in my life.

I hold her closer at the thought and she looks up at me, her eyes looking slightly concerned. "What is it?" she whispers, cupping my cheek.

I shake my head, burying my face in her neck. Sighing, she realizes what's happening, that the guilt is returning, and she slips out of my arms, moving so that she's straddling my legs, pressing herself against me. "Please don't do this to yourself, Christian," she breathes into my ear, hugging me closely. "Not tonight. Not ever. No regrets, remember?"

Sucking in a deep breath, I look at her again, my vision watery. I nod. "No regrets," I repeat in a whisper. She holds me close for several minutes, then slides off my lap, standing up and holding out her hand for me. I smile softly at her, take her hand, and climb to my feet. I allow her to lead me back to the bedroom where we immediately see the tie I discarded after removing it from her wrists.

"Your wife won't let you do that, huh?" she asks me.

I smirk. "Nope," I say simply. "Seems to think it'll give our children the wrong idea."

"That's a shame," she says, picking up the tie. "I could think of a hundred good uses for this thing."

"Is that so?" I challenge. She nods, grinning. "Well, I've got about a thousand. How about I show you a few?"

Her eyes sparkle in excitement and I waste no time getting her back onto the bed and crawling over her. I kiss her desperately and she returns the desperation. I then pull away, rethinking the use of the tie—at least for now. She pouts briefly when I drop it over the side of the bed. It's only now that I'm taking in our surroundings and I'm surprised to find an assortment of toys arranged on the dresser. I raise an eyebrow in question at her.

She shrugs. "I thought we could have a bit of playroom fun," she says softly, dragging her fingernails down my arms. I growl and feel my cock hardening even further, particularly with her next word "_Sir_."

"Perhaps a little later." My hands grasp her ass hard, giving her a taste of what she wants, but she looks slightly uncertain. "There is no question that you can satisfy every need I have, but I'm in the mood for a bit of vanilla," I tell her softly, running my nose alongside hers. "True it was never something I thought I'd enjoy, but a very beautiful, amazing woman showed me what I was missing and now I can't imagine life without it."

"Oh?" she asks, raising an eyebrow even after she blushes at my words. "This woman must really be incredible."

I nod somberly. "She really is," I whisper, my voice cracking. "I don't deserve her."

Her eyes water again as she reaches out for me. "I love you, Christian," she breathes, searching my eyes for something unknown.

My heart aches at her words and I have to close my eyes to maintain some slight semblance of control. When I open them again, I know there is only one acceptable response:

"I love you too, Anastasia," I whisper. "Always."


End file.
